Hafez · Ghazal 342 · The dust of my body
حجاب چهره جان می‌شود غبار تنمخوشا دمی که از آن چهره پرده برفکنم
چنین قفس نه سزای چو من خوش‌الحانی‌ستروم به گلشن رضوان، که مرغ آن چمنم
عیان نشد که چرا آمدم، کجا رفتمدریغ و درد که غافل ز کار خویشتنم
چگونه طوف کنم در فضای عالم قدس؟که در سراچه ترکیب، تخته‌‌بند تنم
اگر ز خون دلم بوی شوق می‌آیدعجب مدار که هم‌درد نافه ختنم
طراز پیرهن زرکشم مبین چون شمعکه سوزهاست نهانی درون پیرهنم
بیا و هستی حافظ ز پیش او بردارکه با وجود تو کس نشنود ز من که منم
Hafez feels here like a songbird in a cage, longing for the garden he belongs to. He admits he does not fully know why he came or where he is going. If you feel confined, or unsure of your direction, the verse does not scold you. It points instead to the hidden fire and fragrance within you, like musk that gives its scent through pain. Do not judge yourself by the embroidered surface. Let something greater than your small self lead, and the veil will lift.
The dust of my body becomes a veil over the face of my soul;
happy the moment when I lift the veil from that face.
Such a cage is not fit for a sweet singer like me;
I will go to the rose garden of paradise, for I am a bird of that meadow.
It has not become clear why I came or where I am going;
alas and alas, that I am heedless of my own work.
How can I circle in the open spaces of the holy world,
when in this small house of elements I am bound to the board of my body?
If the scent of longing rises from my heart's blood,
do not wonder, for I share the pain of the musk-pod of Khotan.
Do not look at the gold-embroidered border of my shirt, like a candle's,
for there are hidden burnings within my shirt.
Come, and take the self of Hafez from before him,
for while you are present, no one will hear me say, "I am."